


Undercover Assignment

by elfin



Category: Almost Human
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfin/pseuds/elfin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian is going undercover as a sexbot and John is going ballistic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undercover Assignment

_How the hell did this happen?_

John Kennex lay on his back on the hotel bed, shirt half-open, hard dick trapped in his jeans practically begging to be touched, with his robot partner looming over him, dazzling blue eyes asking a hundred questions. One stood out from all the others. 

_Can I?_

It was a question John couldn’t answer and it was agonizing, because he wanted to say yes, but the entire police department was watching and as much as his fingers were twitching to finally touch, he knew he absolutely wasn’t allowed. His lips formed what he could only hope was an apology. But in that moment the door of the hotel room burst open, crashing inwards, torn from its hinges, and a grenade blew Dorian half way across the room.

 _How the hell did this happen?_  
  
~  
  
**12 Hours Earlier**  
  


‘Where the hell is my partner?’

John couldn’t understand it. Dorian was always punctual, always on time. He didn’t know how to be late. For the last ten months he had been waiting for John at his desk or on the steps of HQ. It was o-eight-thirty. This, for Dorian, was unimaginably late.

Maybe his recharge hadn’t gone right, or maybe Rudy had introduced him to another robot and he’d spent the night. He didn’t like that idea at all, although the last thing he wanted to do was wonder why. But whenever he looked over at Stahl she looked sheepish, and the captain was definitely avoiding him. So he approached the nearest MX and asked his question again, this time turning it into a command.

‘Tell me where Dorian is.’

‘The DRN designated as Dorian is on an undercover mission with Detective Paul.’

Predictably, John went ballistic.  
  
~  
  
‘John!’ Dorian looked up, surprise clear on his expressive features, when John stepped into the florist van they were unimaginatively using as a temporary base of operations. ‘I didn’t realise you were a part of this operation.’

‘He’s not,’ Richard stated, making it clear his was the only opinion that mattered on this particular subject. 

But as usual John wasn’t listening.

‘I am now.’ He took in the monitors, camera angles from inside the licensed sex club two blocks over, if he wasn’t mistaken. He knew the district, knew the club. He felt sick when he saw what Dorian was wearing. ‘Just tell me what’s going on.’

Richard was already putting through the call to Maldonado as Dorian answered him.

‘Five people who have picked up sexbots at the Rainbow Club have been followed to their homes and hotel rooms and killed, the bots destroyed. I am going undercover to find out who is murdering the club’s clientele.’

‘Going undercover as what?’ He already knew the answer, he just needed his conclusions confirmed before he crushed Richard’s skull with the nearest heavy object.

‘A sexbot,’ Dorian replied, as calmly as if he’d said ‘school teacher’, and John went ballistic.  
  
~  
  
The operation was at an impasse. Dorian found himself trapped between his duty to the police department that owned him and his loyalty to the man he’d been partnered with. John wouldn’t let him leave as much as Richard kept telling him to go. All the while he was trying to work out why the idea of him playing the part of a sexbot was so upsetting and why his partner seemed so disturbed by the clothes Detective Paul had appropriated for him.

The soft black leather did accentuate the care with which he’d been designed… down there. The blue T-shirt that pulled tight over his moulded pectorals and abs, framed his biceps, perhaps gave him more of a physical appearance than John was used to, with it all usually hidden under the department-issue jumpsuit, trousers and jacket he wore daily.

Perhaps John was having difficulty perceiving him as something other than a robot detective, Dorian thought, but that didn’t explain the anger in his eyes and the rage held barely in check in clenched fists ready to swing punches.

‘Dorian doesn’t have to do anything!’ he was yelling, right up in Detective Paul’s face, and any second he was going to hit him and earn himself a suspension. ‘He’s a cop just like you, you miserable son-of-a-bitch!’

‘He has the same empathy chip as a sexbot,’ Paul sneered in response. ‘And from what I hear, the same equipment as one too.’

Dorian caught John’s hand inches from Richard’s face.

‘Why not include John in the investigation?’ he suggested, hoping it would calm the situation down. ‘Someone should play the client. It would be better if whoever picked me up and put themselves in danger was a cop too. Better it be John than an unsuspecting member of the public.’

He could feel John’s hesitation, could see it in his eyes when he turned. He was standing so close that his left thigh brushed John’s hip and he was momentarily distracted by the sensation. 

‘Is it okay that I’m a guy?’ John asked, and for a moment Dorian imagined that his partner was actually propositioning him. But obviously he meant for the operation. 

‘Our victims have been men and women,’ Richard explained begrudgingly, and Dorian knew that even he had to admit it made sense for the client to be a cop as well as the bot. That way they weren’t putting anyone else at risk.

‘Bring me up to speed,’ John commanded. Dorian stepped back at the same moment that John did, putting some space between them. He was touched by John’s concern but at the same time he was confused by it. He was a bot after all; sex was just sex, a physical act between two consenting adults. Besides, the five human victims were all found half-undressed, no actual sex had taken place. 

At least John seemed less inclined to hit anyone as he was drafted into the operation.  
  
~  
  
John licked his lips as he descended the stairs to the underground club. He’d been here before, years ago, before he’d met Anna. Not that he was ever going to admit that to Richard. Dorian… he was only slightly surprised to realise he didn’t mind Dorian knowing. His crazy mad partner, who was already sassing through the club in those ridiculous trousers and that skin-fit T-shirt.  He wished his own jeans didn’t feel so damn tight when he looked because he couldn’t help looking. He knew what was in Dorian’s pants because he’d seen it, that morning in the car, after the shock of finding the MXs were nothing but glorified Ken dolls. What back then, even in glaring daylight and the fact that John had tried not to stare, had looked like a monster dick, looked even bigger wrapped in soft leather. His partner looked like a sex god, shrouded in the slick sticky darkness of the club making the real sexbots look like blow-up dolls.

This was a bad idea, John’s involvement, a decision made in the heat of the moment. It was his own fault he was here, there was no one else to blame, and he wouldn’t have been any less on edge if he was trapped in the van watching events unfold via the cameras and Dorian’s own eyes. With him involved, at least Maldonado had agreed that Dorian’s point of view wouldn’t be broadcast and the recording would only be used it if became viable and useful evidence. 

He bought himself a drink at the bar and leaned forward, looking around as if searching for someone who interested him. Dorian moved into his line of sight, smiled at him, then approached. There was an expression on his face just to the right of anything John recognised and he wanted to reassure his partner that this was okay, there wouldn’t be any bad consequences of anything said or done tonight. What happened undercover stayed undercover, and despite being unable to say anything, not knowing whether their would-be attacker was close by, he must have communicated that assurance somehow, because Dorian’s slight apprehension was suddenly gone and without warning, he was leaning into John at the bar, asking him if he was looking for company.  
  
~  
  
Somewhere between the Scotch at the bar and the cheap motel room over the road, the pretence fell away. John had always been a failure at this undercover stuff, he wore his heart on his sleeve - as the saying went - and his soul in his eyes. Dorian, of course, had seen through him right from the start, as easily as if he was made of glass. At the bar Dorian’s moves had been subtle, his voice soft and seductive, each syllable stroking John’s dick, little touches that made the hairs on his skin stand up. When Dorian suggested getting a room, they put on a show of leaving, John sliding from his barstool into Dorian’s space, his hand sweeping over Dorian’s side, settling possessively at his hip. As they exited the club, Dorian’s arm came around John’s waist, long fingers easing into the back pocket of his jeans. John hadn’t been this aroused in years.

He paid cash at the motel, bought them two hours. If no one had made a move in that time, he was packing up, going home and jerking off. Alone. He’d convinced himself nothing was actually going to happen.

But once they were in the room with the door closed, and Dorian’s fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, his mouth was suddenly too dry to say stop. Truth was, he didn’t want to stop. It had been so long, too long, since another person had touched him. It didn’t matter that Dorian wasn’t human, although he was more human to John than most of the people he worked with. Sexbots were commonplace, even though John had never used one. Not that he would ever think of his partner in those terms. Sexbots were programmed for sex, to be prostitutes. Dorian was a cop through and through. He just wasn't acting like one tonight. He was taking his time with John’s shirt, trying to keep the touching to a minimum, so John licked his lips and told him it was okay. 

Dorian stopped for a second to look at him and his expression made John’s pulse race. Then he smiled, turned them and pushed John on to the bed on his back. He was torn painfully between not wanting to make out with his partner under the watchful eyes of the department’s surveillance unit, and wanting to have sex with Dorian so badly his dick was practically begging him to do it.

He almost yelled his relief when the grenade went off. 

Instead, he yelled, ‘DORIAN!’  
  
~  
  
Unsurprisingly, there was a smirk on Richard’s face when they exited the seedy hotel, Dorian shoving their cuffed attacker out in front of him and John rubbing his shoulder where he’d been pinned down on the bed for a second before he’d managed to head-butt the guy backwards and break his nose.

There was a message from Maldonado; congratulations on a job well done and the offer of a drink. John texted back, thanking her but declining, saying he and Dorian were going for noodles. It was a half-truth. Handing the perp over to Richard, they walked to the car and John drove them to his place in a silence laden with tension. They didn’t talk, although Dorian kept glancing across at him every quarter mile. 

He ordered the lights to remain off as he pushed open the door to his apartment. The moonlight was flooding in over the water, the eerie illumination flowing over his partner’s flawless skin. His fingers reached out almost of their own volition and he brushed Dorian’s cheek as if he could brush the light from it.

‘We could just… call for takeout,’ he suggested, voice hoarse, part of him hoping Dorian would take the out he’d just offered, part of him really hoping he didn’t.

Dorian didn’t move. 

‘We could. You haven’t shown any sexual interest in me before tonight. Are you sure what you’re feeling isn’t something else?’

No, quite honestly, he wasn’t. 

’I think… I didn’t realise what I was feeling was sexual until Richard tried to whore you out as a sexbot.’

‘It was an undercover assignment, John. Does the idea of me with a stranger turn you on?’

John’s hand dropped but Dorian stood his ground, waiting for an answer that took John a minute to figure out because he didn’t want it to sound possessive and crazy. Unfortunately, in the end, he knew whatever he said was going to come out that way.

‘I don’t like the idea of you with anyone but me.’

The corners of Dorian’s mouth turned up into that smug little smile of his. 

‘You do care.’

John rolled his eyes. 

‘You know I do.’

‘I don’t want you to act on jealousy and regret it in the morning.’

‘I won’t.’ He moved his head; a single, quick jerk to the side. ‘I want to touch you. Can I touch you?’

‘I’m the bot. I should be asking you.’

‘You’re not just a bot. You’re an individual. You’re special and unique. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want-‘ 

Dorian’s hands on his face and his tongue pressing into his mouth cut him off. He made a sound between a huff and a moan, but Dorian pulled back before he had a chance to join in.

‘I’ve been trying to work out what it would take to stop you talking. I finally got it.’

John crowded in, arms finally going around Dorian’s body, feeling the strength of him. Knowing what he was capable of just made it more of a turn on when hands skimmed his sides and hips, squeezing his ass.

’You can do that anytime you think I’m talking too much.’

‘If I did that, we’d spent most of our days with my tongue down your throat.’

‘Sounds awful.’

Dorian kissed him again, slower this time, stepping closer, letting John feel just how big he was when he was erect. John tried to remember how to breathe. Not knowing how experienced his partner was had been a concern in the past but Dorian had instant access to the ultimate ‘how to’ guide. John was certain he could ask to do anything and Dorian would know what he meant and how to go about it. All he really wanted was to get naked, to look and touch and find out what provoked unexpected reactions, maybe get a rise out of his partner that wasn’t a programmed response. It didn’t feel like programming, the way Dorian’s hands were working their way under his jacket and shirt to find skin. 

They managed to find their way into the bedroom, mostly blindly with Dorian kissing him, a symphony of lips and tongues. By the time he was back on his back, back to where they were before they were rudely interrupted at the motel (not that John had had any intention of doing anything at the motel with Paul watching) his jacket and shirt were gone, Dorian’s T-shirt was on the floor and his ridiculous trousers were open, John’s hand down the front of them. Dorian’s dick rested heavy against the inside of his forearm, halfway to his elbow, equipment a porn star would be proud of. 

‘Christ, D. Gotta get this inside me.’

Dorian lifted his mouth, rested his forehead against John’s and actually took a breath he didn’t need.

‘Jesus, John, warn a guy when you’re going to say something like that.’

Reaching up, John pushed his fingers into Dorian’s tight black curls, hair that felt just that little bit man-made, and lifted his head so that he could grin into his face.

‘I’ve never done that before,’ Dorian whispered. ‘I want to but I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘You won’t. Trust yourself. Trust me.’

 Dorian held himself up on one hand and placed his other at John’s throat, thumb stroking over his Adam’s Apple. John didn’t blink, didn’t flinch.

‘I trust you with my life. I think I can trust you with my ass.’

It provoked a laugh, just the way it was supposed to. 

‘Get naked.’

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

~

‘Do you want to keep your leg on?’ 

That was a question he’d never heard before. He didn’t have an answer to it.

‘Yes?’ This time, he thought. He hated the way he looked without it, although he guessed that Dorian wouldn’t care either way. 

Dorian smiled. ‘Of course, John.’ He trailed gentle fingers over the join of flesh and synthetic polymers, kissed the surrounding scars. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

‘Yes. Please.’

~

He was big, too big, but this wasn’t John’s first rodeo and he breathed through it, riding out the pain, letting the shock to his body transmute into pleasure, finally releasing his death grip on the sheets. Dorian’s teeth scraped across his shoulders, biting into the muscle at the base of his neck, setting the rest of his nerves singing. Dorian’s free hand, the one not holding his weight, was wrapped around John’s dick, jerking him off in time with his slow, deep thrusts.

‘I can do this all night, John.’ Christ, that voice. Work was going to become an innuendo minefield from tonight onwards. ‘So you need to come for me.’

For once in his life, John did as he was told.  
  
~  
  
His phone beeped at him as he made toast. Or more accurately, as he burnt toast, because he was staring at Dorian’s ridiculously sculpted torso while his partner topped up his charge, oblivious to John’s appreciative, longing, hungry gaze. Finally he got around to checking the message. It was from Stahl.

_Richard has images from last night he’s not keeping to himself._

For one horrible, heart-stopping moment, John imagined she was referring to _last night_ , then he realised she was talking about the undercover operation at the motel and he was almost certain they hadn’t gone further than their roles had warranted. He considered his position, and his options, then made a call to the City Central High School.  
  
~  
  
John pushed open the doors of the squad room and at first glance saw the picture projected onto the walls and pillars - it was hard to miss. He and Dorian, captured in a perfect pose, with him flat on his back on the bed and Dorian holding himself over him. Nothing truly incriminating. Totally PG compared to what they’d done in John’s apartment. He caught too a glimpse of Richard’s sickeningly smug smirk. And he smiled back as the twenty-or-so school kids trotted down the steps into the bullpen, chatting to one another, wide excited eyes taking in their new surroundings.  
  
John had never seen Richard move so fast, not even under fire. He made a run for his desk and his computer to switch off the projections before the image was spotted by innocent eyes and described in embellished detail to their teacher who was being just slightly delayed back along the corridor by Detective Stahl.

‘3.7 seconds,’ Dorian supplied when John closed up to his side, maybe just a little bit closer than was strictly necessary. ‘I win. I drive.’

John gave an exaggerated sigh. He’d thought Richard would have been faster, what with twenty two potential law suits taking him by surprise.

‘Fine.’ He turned his head to enjoy the stunning blue of his partner’s eyes. ‘You know the way to my place.’

Dorian lowered his voice and smiled one of those private little smiles he’d always reserved for John. ’I do.’

‘Good. You’re moving in. That way I can keep an eye on you and stop others from taking advantage.’

That smile became a blinding white grin.

‘Really?’

‘Really. I’ll clear it with Maldonado. She owes me one after Richard’s little stunt.’

He considered the assembled school kids and wondered what he could say to them that would make at least two of them sick.

‘John?’ He looked back at Dorian. ‘Who’s going to stop you from taking advantage?’  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [Published Fiction](http://www.madeleine-marsh.com/)


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